


Just What Humans Do

by YolandaWinston



Category: New Girl
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Coitus Interruptus, F/M, First Time, Humor, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YolandaWinston/pseuds/YolandaWinston
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But logic and past precedent and the truth gnawing at her gut aside, she must have been drunk. Because there's no way that sober Jessica Day would have had sex with her roommate, whom she previously had kissed a grand total of once, in the place where her other roommates brush their teeth in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops. This happened. It's both the longest and the smuttiest thing I've ever written by a large margin. I figured neither of those things are likely to cause complaints. Big thanks to missnumbat for the beta.

Jess was drunk.

It's important that that's been said.

Not blackout drunk - not even True American drunk. But she'd had what was probably an inadvisable amount of pink wine - she wasn't sure how much exactly, she’d been drinking at Cece’s apartment before she showed up at Guy’s Night, and Cece has a tendency to top up Jess’s glass when she’s not looking.

And it's not like she didn't know what she was getting herself into. She was aware of what was happening – a little too aware, if anything. She had a chance to stop it, and she didn't.

And her memory isn't blurry like it tends to get when she overindulges - rather, it seemed to sharpen for those long minutes, recording every moment in aching, agonizing detail for her to relive on a loop whether she wants to or not.

_(She wants to)_

_(She definitely wants to)_

And okay, maybe by the time it actually happened she wasn’t really drunk anymore – wobbly and flushed and losing the ability to form sentences, sure, but it wouldn’t be fair to pin all of that on the pink wine. Pink wine’s been nothing but good to her until now.

But logic and past precedent and the truth gnawing at her gut aside, she must have been drunk. Because there's no way that sober Jessica Day would have had sex with her roommate, whom she previously had kissed a grand total of once, in the place where her other roommates brush their teeth in the morning. No way at all. That would be gross, and inconsiderate, and slutty, and Jess is none of these things.

And yet...

And yet.


	2. Chapter 2

Jess shakes the sting out of her palm as the front door slams behind her – a good, resonating slam, one she would be proud of if she didn’t have a lot of other things on her mind. Like, _a lot._

Unfortunately, she’s barely around the corner before one of those things kicks the door open again.

“Jessica!” the thing yells. Nick, she reminds herself, the thing’s name is Nick. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

It’s almost a relief to hear him shouting at her. He’s been treating her extra nice ever since the near miss at the hardware store, when his dicking around (so to speak) with some pipe sent a board flying within inches of her face. Between him taking charge at the bar, speaking to her gently and smelling like clean laundry, it’s been a confusing couple of days as far as her feelings are concerned.

But the stomping and muttering behind her tell her that the old Nick is well and truly back.

She ignores him and storms into her room, kicking the door shut after her. “Nothing! Go away.”

“Oh, really? Nothing’s wrong?” Nick has apparently lost all respect for privacy and closed doors, because hers immediately swings wide open. “So you intended to show up at the bar for thirty seconds, and leave the minute Shane kissed me?”

She’s facing away from him, tugging off her jacket and throwing it on the pile of clothes on her bed, so she permits herself a wince at the memory. Winces, too, at the discarded outfits; remembers the effort she put into her appearance tonight. She was going to show up at the bar looking irresistible, and he was going to compliment her again, and this time she was going to smile and thank him instead of giggling and running away.

That was the plan, anyway. But apparently he was too busy complimenting another woman’s tonsils to notice.

She’s angry at herself more than anything, but letting it out on him is more likely to make her feel better. She spins around.

“Hey Nick, here’s a thought. What if I left because guy’s night is a _terrible idea_. It smelled like body odour and burnt cheese in there, and four separate guys grabbed my ass on my way out.”

Nick is momentarily distracted by this information. “Who the hell... I’ll kick their... ok, we’ll deal with that later. Why did you really leave? And what’s wrong with your hand?” he adds, noticing her shaking it out by her side.

“I don’t know, Nick, maybe I wanted to hit you and I took it out on our innocent door instead.”

“Fantastic. Progress. Why did you want to hit me?”

She makes a strangled scream and turns on her heel, shoving her closet door open with unnecessary force.

“I almost always want to hit you Nick. Business as usual over here. Now please leave so I can shower in peace.” She actually had no intention of showering when she came up here; in fact she showered only a couple of hours ago, but it seems like as good an excuse as any to get him to leave.

Only he doesn’t move – just continues to lean in her doorway with a growing frown.

“Jessica. Are you angry at me for kissing Shane?”

She grabs a clean towel off her shelf, hoping its folds will disguise the way her hands have curled into fists.

“No, Nick. Why would I be angry? You can kiss whoever you want. I think it’s a wonderful idea for you to be hooking up with your _boss_. There’s no way that could possibly go wrong.”

Annoyingly, he doesn’t take the bait, doesn’t lash out at her. Just nods.

“Point taken, but here’s the thing. Why do you care?”

“I don’t! I don’t care!” Her voice betrays her, breaking in the middle of the last word.

“Jessica, any time a woman yells that she doesn’t care, it means she does care. A lot. Tran taught me that. He has great wisdom inside of him.” Nick pauses, his face growing especially serious. “I think he might be a wizard.”

“What? No! I don’t... _what?”_

Nick just raises his eyebrows in the way he does when he really believes something, no matter how stupid it is.

With a cry of frustration, she marches up to where he blocks her door.

He doesn’t budge, but his voice softens imperceptibly. “Tell me what’s going on and I’ll leave you alone, I swear.”

“There’s nothing going on! Everything’s fine! Just go back to helping your girlfriend bankrupt the bar with the worst idea in this country’s proud history of bad ideas, and I’ll wash my hair in peace. Everyone wins.“

With unwelcome tears stinging at the back of her eyes, Jess pushes past him and makes for the bathroom. She just catches the way his eyes widen and his mouth falls open.

“So this _is_ about her!”

“Yeah, Nick! It kind of is!” she shouts over her shoulder, where he follows her two steps behind. “I thought you were living up to your potential for once, I thought it was great that you were suddenly excited about your job.”

She dumps her towel on the bathroom floor, too pissed off to think about how gross that is, and spins around to face him. “Ha! Well why wouldn’t you be excited, with those sort of incentives.”

The door slowly swings shut behind Nick, which makes her a little nervous for reasons she can’t explain. He looks angry, and not his usual harmless grandpa angry. A cloud passes over his face, turning his eyes dark and twisting his mouth. Jess feels a plummeting in the pit of her stomach, and she backs away a little.

“No, Jess, if that’s what this is about, let’s talk about it. Let’s really be honest for just one god damn minute here.”

 She shrugs, opening her eyes wide to mimic his.

“This isn’t about my job. You couldn’t care less about my job. This is about you seeing me kissing another woman and suddenly going bananas.”

Jess scoffs, and they start talking over each other. It’s like every stupid argument they’d ever had, except that the truth they’re avoiding is a million times scarier than normal.

“Oh, really Nick? I went bananas?”

“Yeah, I’d describe this as bananas.”

“I’m sorry, did you get drunk at the zoo again? Do you think you’re fighting a gorilla right now?”

“GOING BANANAS IS A PERFECTLY REASONABLE PHRASE, JESSICA. PEOPLE USE IT ALL THE TIME.”

“What do you want me to say?” she explodes. “It’s weird seeing you kiss other women now! Believe me, I don’t like acting this way. I don’t like _feeling_ this way. And if that annoys you, maybe you shouldn’t have kissed me in the first place and put all these annoying thoughts in my head!”

Nick runs a hand through his hair, frustration written all over his face.

 “That’s great Jess, that’s really fantastic. So just because you don’t want me, you expect me to be celibate forever? To never kiss anyone at the bar, or bring any girls home, in case it makes you a little uncomfortable? I am a MAN, Jessica!”

It’s such a bullshit excuse, and she fully intends to tell him so. He seriously needs to stop using his penis as a get out of jail free card – this is like the fourth time this week, fifth if she counts the fight about oven mitts ( _“I’m a man, Jess, my hands are strong and callused, I think I can carry a lasagne to the table witho-FUCK”_ ). And maybe it’s the sudden and unexpected thought of his penis, but somewhere in her brain or her throat her words get tangled.

“Who said I didn’t want you?” The desperation in her voice seems to echo off the tiles, and she cringes.

Nick looks mildly stunned. He licks his lips, moves a little closer to her. She tries to take another step backwards, but her lower back bumps against the sink.

“Do you?” His voice is suddenly quiet. Serious.

Jess clears her throat. She looks at the floor. She looks at Nick’s chest, rising and falling inches from her face. She does not look at his eyes, though she can feel them boring into her.

“What?” She cocks her head to the side, feigning misunderstanding. Hoping to lure him into a tacit understanding that they’re not having this conversation, they never were, everything is totally normal.

It doesn’t work.

“Do you want me, Jess?” He takes another step closer, resting his hands on the sink on either side of her waist.

She finally lifts her eyes to meet his. A jolt goes through her body and ends with a pulse between her legs.

She stops fighting.

“Yes.”

Nick rears back slightly, his disbelief apparent. His hands slide inwards, settle on her hips. His eyes rake over her face, a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and infuriatingly, he doesn’t say a thing.

The silence worms its way inside Jess’s head, and she can feel herself starting to lose the plot. If only they were in her bedroom, one of her funny hats would be perfect to diffuse the tension right now, or maybe the novelty teeth. If Nick wasn’t taking up all of her personal space she could try a silly dance.  

But with those options ruled out, she’s inevitably going to end up singing about what she’s doing, which is unfortunate because that is going to be problematic in this instance. It’s not that she wants to do the singing thing, it’s more of a nervous tic, one that she’s dropped since she’s become more comfortable around her roommates.

But she’s definitely nervous right about now.

She opens her mouth, terrified of what’s going to come out but sure that it will be better than the deafening silence. Luckily, Nick’s eyes flicker down to her lips and a moment later – _oh._

Nick is kissing her. It’s like last time, but somehow, impossibly, better. They’re pressed together from their mouths to their knees, his whole body a wall of heat against her. Their lips part and meet again, and again, and any uncertainty that was present in their first kiss has been replaced with a determination that’s really doing it for her. His tongue pushes against hers, and she makes a desperate sound in the back of her throat. And hey, she’s a woman, she knows how to make noises that will turn guys on, but that one was so involuntary and so surprising even to her that she actually turns herself on.

Evidently it has a similar effect on Nick, because his hands slide lower, dip under her skirt, cup her butt through her tights. He pulls his mouth from hers, murmurs, “Up.”

“Wha- oh!”

So she’s sitting on the bathroom sink, making out with her roommate. That’s happening right now. She really hopes it’s secure, vaguely remembers hearing a story about a girl who was having sex on a sink when it broke off the wall and somehow severed her hand. Not that she’s going to have sex with Nick on their bathroom sick. That’s not where this is heading, right?

Oh god. Best not to think about it.

Unaware of her spiralling, Nick breaks away from her mouth to press kisses all over her face, her neck, her collarbone. Jess gasps, and at last her mind goes deliciously blank. Blank except for one single solitary thought which drifts across her consciousness, begging to be vocalised.

“You said you’d leave me alone,” she whispers into his ear.

“What?” Nick pulls back a little, unsure. Her neck feels cold in his absence, traces of saliva from his kisses cooling on her skin.

Silently cursing herself, Jess hooks her leg around his waist, pulling him back to her. “You said if I told you what was going on, you’d leave me alone.” She tugs at the hair at the back of his neck, smiles. Makes it clear she’s just flirting.

Nick seems to get the message. “Like hell I will,” he growls, diving back in to press his mouth against hers.

Her smile melts away as he kisses her with an intensity she doesn’t quite know how to process. She wants him, has wanted him for days _(sure, days, says her subconscious)_ , but despite that first kiss all those weeks ago it never fully occurred to her that the feeling was mutual.

It occurs to her now.

He slides his hands around her waist, and before she’s even done registering the sensation of his callused palms against her skin, he’s lifting her top over her head. Bottles and tubes from the shelf behind her get knocked down in the process, tumbling into the sink and on the floor. Nick swipes the few that remain standing out of the way impatiently.

Jess opens her mouth to say something - she doesn’t know what yet. She’s leaning towards _Nick!_ gasped with surprise or desire but most definitely not protest. It doesn’t matter, because his mouth is crashing back to hers, hot and desperate, sucking his name right off her tongue.

Then smooth pink fabric is sliding down her arms, and who would have guessed that Nick Miller was so adept at removing bras? But she was definitely wearing one a second ago, and on her breasts, not draped jauntily around her elbows as it is now while Nick swallows and stares.

She knows things are moving quickly, probably too quickly. This is Katy behaviour, stealing guys in bars and hooking up with them in bathrooms. And she’s not Katy, not really, she’s Jessica Day and she likes being weird and taking her time and god, she really doesn’t want to make a habit of this bathroom thing.

Nick’s hands still haven’t caught up to his eyes, pupils dilated and fixed on her nipples as he slowly, unconsciously licks his lower lip. She has about half a second to decide if she wants to put a stop to this. She _should_ put a stop to this.

She pushes Nick’s arms out of the way. Shucks her bra the rest of the way off.

Pulls his mouth back to hers.

He sucks in a breath through his nose, surprised, disbelieving. She thinks that he was waiting for her to reject him, that he goes through his whole life waiting to be pushed away. She kisses him harder.

His hands finally slide up her sides, tracing her ribs and cupping her breasts. He opens his mouth over hers and she tastes beer on his tongue. She normally hates that, but somehow on Nick it’s ok, suits him, even. He pulls his mouth away and she tips forward trying to follow him, almost falling off the sink. He steadies her, his hands on her hips, fingers dipping below the waistband of her skirt. And she wants to protest, because now she’s lost his mouth on her mouth _and_ his hands on her breasts, but in a second his tongue is scraping against her nipple and damn if that isn’t the best of both worlds.

He’s licking and tugging and her hands are in his hair and she doesn’t know what the dimension is after space and time but she’s pretty sure she’s seeing through it now. His stubble scrapes against the soft skin of her breasts, and she inhales sharply because combined with what his tongue is doing it’s pretty much the greatest thing she’s ever felt.

His scalp feels hot under her fingertips, his hair unexpectedly smooth. Maybe he’s been stealing Schmidt’s hair chutney again, except he doesn’t smell like a fruit salad, he smells like a _man_. She ducks her head and presses her lips to his forehead. He tastes like a man too. Salty. She probably tastes pretty salty herself, she can feel the sheen of sweat on her skin, knows her bangs must look awful all stuck to her forehead. But Nick mustn’t think she looks awful, because he’s standing now and gazing into her face in a way that knocks her senseless. Which is misleading, actually, because all her senses are most definitely present, reporting for active duty Sir, all systems go!

Nick’s hands settle on the zipper of her skirt, and woah mister, it’s time to even the playing field a little. She pushes his t-shirt up around his chest, totally graceless and getting distracted by the feel of soft hair against her palms. He comes to her assistance, his shirt landing somewhere in the vicinity of her bra as his mouth presses back against hers, once, twice.

Then his hands are back on her skirt, slowly tugging the zipper down. He’s looking at her again, his eyes dark and questioning. She can smell his sweat, deodorant under both arms tonight, _hello ladies_. She can hear him breathing, rough and deep. She can feel his heartbeat against her palm.

She nods.


	3. Chapter 3

_She nods._

Time speeds up then, she’s sure of it. A wormhole opens in 4D, and as a direct result of that Nick is pushing her skirt down her thighs. It’s an awkward procedure, what with her balancing on the sink. There is lifting and wriggling and there are limbs everywhere, but somehow her skirt winds up on the floor. Then Nick’s yelling at her about how annoying tights are, and a minute later her are tangled around her ankles, and whoops, looks like her underwear decided to go along for the ride.

Nick’s mouth is back on her neck, his left hand brushing her nipple, his right hand slipping between her legs. Jess doesn’t know much about wormholes, but the one in 4D seems to be either of the time-speeding variety or a straight up portal to an alternate universe. She’s pretty sure that’s the only explanation for Nick pushing his fingers inside her when five minutes ago they were shouting at each other in the hallway.

Her mouth falls open and her head tips back – a little too far, as it turns out when she bumps against the mirror. Her _ow!_ trails off into a moan, and her body must be just as confused as her brain by this turn of events. Nick’s hand abandons her breast and cups her head instead, fingers tangling in her hair as he shields her from the mirror. “Okay?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, as he pulls his fingers out of her and slides them up to her clit.

She shudders, a full body shudder, and nods again. He dips his head to kiss her, an incongruously sweet kiss given the circumstances. His fingers don’t stop moving.

Jess’s hand, the one that isn’t gripping the sink behind her, clutches his shoulder. She watches, fascinated, as his muscles tenses and release beneath her fingers, in rhythm with the movement of his hand. She slides her palm down his chest, appreciating the hitch in his breath as her hand drifts lower. She settles her hand on his belt buckle. 

At her sudden stillness, Nick breaks away from the kiss, his eyes almost imperceptibly flickering down to her naked body before settling on her face. Not breaking eye contact, she slips the end of his belt out of the loops in his jeans, starts to undo the buckle. She raises her eyebrows at him.

Nick opens and closes his mouth a few times. False starts. Finally he says, “Are you asking me if you can... are you asking if that’s okay?”

Jess nods, her lips pressed together. He huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, Jess. You can do whatever you want in that, uh, region.”

She smiles, and finishes undoing the buckle. She hopes he doesn’t notice that her fingers are trembling.

Without giving herself a chance to freak out, she starts in on his jeans. It must have escaped her notice when he was demonstrating his laundry prowess by flashing his underwear yesterday, but his fly seems to be held together with a metal hook and several paperclips. She makes several attempts to undo it before giving up, flummoxed.

Nick, realising what’s happened, stops playing with her hair and comes to her aid.

As she’s watching his fingers work, fascinated, a thought occurs to Jess. “Is this why you bought that packet of wall-hanging hooks at the hardware store? For your _pants_?”

Well, at least that explains why she didn’t notice it yesterday.

 “Yeah, the button broke a while ago.  I tried using binder clips but they weren’t cutting it.”

“Wait, is that where my binder clips kept disapp- _just buy new jeans_!” It’s reassuring, in a way, that they’re arguing like this. It shows that not everything has changed, even though she’s completely naked in front of him, her thighs resting against the outside of his hips.

“Have you seen how much jeans cost these days? You’d think they were made of diamonds. These ones are just fine.”

“ _They’re clearly not!”_

Then, finally, the paperclips give way and they both shut up.

Nick’s hands hover over his open fly, unsure, then he brings them back up to cup her face. Leaves it up to her to move things along.

She only hesitates for a moment. Then she reaches for him and, with a not insignificant amount of manoeuvring, has his jeans and newly blue underwear down to mid-thigh.

And there it is. Nick’s penis.

Beautiful. Stately. A real treat.

He’s watching her with heavy-lidded eyes, and she wraps one small hand around him. He hisses and sways forward, pressing his lips to hers like a lifeline.

She strokes him, slowly at first, trying not to concentrate on how this is _Nick_ so hot and heavy in her hand. But of course, it’s all she can think about. As he kisses her, as he slides his hands down her sides, as he slips his fingers back between her legs, her mind is just _Nick Nick Nick Nick Nick._

Which makes it all the more overwhelming when he pulls away from her and rasps, “Condom?”

Jess can hear her pulse thumping in her ears. If there was ever a point of no return in this whole upside-down night, this would be it.

She swallows.

“Schmidt keeps a supply in his manscaping case.”

He raises an eyebrow, and she answers the unasked question. “Cece.”

Nick’s face instantly scrunches up, eyebrows furrowed, mouth twisted, and she can’t believe she’s about to have sex with this idiot. “Aw, gross, do you think they...? _Here_?”

She shrugs. “Can we really talk, though?”

His face instantly relaxes. “Fair point,” he says, pulling his jeans and underwear off the rest of the way before moving to search through Schmidt’s stuff. She takes a moment to admire his butt, then hops off the sink and kicks her shoes off, before untangling her tights and underwear from her ankles.

For some reason the thought that she kept her ballet flats on throughout all of this makes her laugh, just a low breathy chuckle. Nick looks over his shoulder and appraises her.

“Are you laughing at my butt?”

She smiles at him as she straightens, leaning back against the sink. She thinks about saying _maybe_ but doesn’t want to risk Nick’s fragile self-confidence, for fear of messing up this moment they have hanging in the balance.

“No. Your butt is very nice.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes rake over her. They’ve been so close this whole time, touching and kissing, but this is the first time he’s really been able to look at her, take her in from head to toe. It somehow feels more intimate, standing naked in front of him in the harsh fluorescent light, and her hands unconsciously drift to cover herself.

“Don’t,” he pleads. His voice is low and gravelly, and a wave of heat crashes over her, pooling low in her belly. She bites her lip and rests her hands on the edge of the sink, pushing her shoulders back for good measure.

Nick stares at her for several long moments, then starts to fumble with Schmidt’s vanity case, dropping boxes and bottles with alarming-looking packaging everywhere. She frowns and makes a move to help him, but then he’s shouting, “Got it!”

And this time he does look pretty comical, standing there with an impressive erection, waving a condom in the air in triumph. But she doesn’t laugh. She’s preoccupied by a manic internal monologue. _You’re about to have sex with your roommate, with your friend, with NICK, there are so many ways this could end badly. Are you absolutely sure that you want to do this?_

The thing is, she is sure. She really is. It’s not that she doesn’t realise it’s probably a bad idea. She’s just made the conscious decision not to care.

So as Nick stands between her thighs and rolls the condom on, Jess doesn’t spiral. She doesn’t panic. She doesn’t wonder what it means. She doesn’t even suggest they stop and relocate to one of the several nearby and available bedrooms. There’ll be time enough for all that later.

She just curls her hand around his neck, hot and sweaty and perfect, and pulls him in for a slow, deep kiss.

Nick shuts his eyes and sighs into her mouth, just a little, just enough to make her heart beat harder. Then he’s wrapping his hands around her thighs and, without breaking their kiss, setting her on the edge of the sink again.

She can feel him hard and ready and so close to where she needs him to be, and she rocks her hips towards him. He groans, and she does too. She’s so, so wet, she can feel it as he slides against her. Then he positions himself at her entrance, and before he can ask if she’s ready she gasps, “ _yes_ ”.

Then he’s pushing inside her, and-

_Oh_.

This is everything she’s been wanting.

She waits for the moment of stillness, the part where they stare into each other’s eyes and question this huge step they’ve taken. It doesn’t come. Nick just presses his mouth against her neck and groans, scraping her skin with his teeth as he pulls out and thrusts back in.

She cries out, and he smiles against her throat. Forgetting to worry about the sink’s dubious stability (if it’s like everything else in this loft it’s held to the wall with chewing gum and force of will), Jess brings her other hand up to clutch at Nick’s shoulder. She trusts him more than the sink anyway. He’s moving so deep inside her she’s seeing stars, and not just the glow-in-the-dark ones Winston stuck to the bathroom ceiling in a flight of whimsy.

She squeezes her eyes shut involuntarily, because thinking about Winston at this very moment is a little upsetting. Then Nick’s cupping her breast, stroking her nipple in time with his thrusts, and it’s not an issue any more.

She opens her eyes again, focuses them on the flushed skin of Nick’s chest as he pulls away from her neck to look at her. He has a freckle just below his collarbone on the left side. She’s never noticed it before, not that she’s had many chances. It’s so perfectly round and perfectly brown that it makes her heart hurt for some unfathomable reason. She leans in and traces it with her tongue, capturing it against his skin with a kiss. Nick whimpers.

His hand that’s not on her breast is grasping her thigh, supporting her weight and leaving sweaty handprints on her skin. Even so the edge of the sink is starting to dig in to her butt, and when she leans backwards to try to redistribute her weight the shelf presses sharply into her back. She bites her tongue for a while, because the new angle feels so. Damn. Good. But soon the pain is encroaching on the pleasure, and she slides her hand down to Nick’s chest.

“Hold on,” she murmurs. He immediately stills against her, his heavy breathing exaggerated by the sudden absence of movement.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, just... getting a little uncomfortable up here,” she says, pulling a jokey face as if the mood needs lightening, or is even capable of it. It takes him a moment to process what she’s saying – he looks thoroughly sex-addled, and Jess feels a violent, possessive pride. Then he nods and pulls out of her, giving her space to slip down to the ground.

“Um...” she smiles up at him, their height difference so much more apparent when she’s not hovering a foot off the ground. Nick gazes at her, and the look in his eyes is almost too much, she thinks she’s going to have to turn away. Then he puts his hands on her hips, pushing and pulling and- oh. She’s turning away.

Jess tentatively rests her hands on the sink in front of her and looks in the mirror, makes eye contact with Nick where he stands over her bare shoulder. He licks his lips.

“This okay?”

She swallows, and tries not to get distracted when Jess in the mirror swallows too.

“Yeah.”

Then he’s sliding inside her again, and it’s definitely, definitely okay.

Jess has never liked being able to see herself in a mirror during sex. It makes her feel awkward and self-conscious. Even now, it’s not the most flattering sight. She’s sweaty, and her hair is a half-up, half-down mess. The lights are so painfully bright – she’s not opposed to sex with the lights on, but this is a whole new level of fluorescence.

As she leans forward, rocking into Nick’s thrusts, she can’t stop herself from noticing how her breasts are a little uneven, how her stomach curves gently outwards more than it did five years ago. Yet in this harsh, dizzying light, she loves her body more than she ever has before. She loves the way it looks, and she loves the sensations it’s capable of, the ones that are becoming more and more fantastic now that she’s in her thirties.

She never had sex like this in her twenties.

Nick’s hand is travelling down her front, cupping and squeezing, and mirror-Jess has a face that could make a thousand ships burst into spontaneous flames. Her eyes are dark and serious; her lips are swollen and parted. Jess gazes back at herself, entranced.

Nick’s hand dips between her legs, just for long enough to make her shudder, before settling on her stomach and bracing her as he starts fucking her harder. Normally she doesn’t like to use that particular verb, _fucking_. It’s always sounded vaguely unpleasant to her, and so... unaffectionate. But no question it’s what happening now. _Face the music, Jessica_ , she thinks, because he’s got her bent over a sink and is grasping her hip hard enough to leave bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.

And that’s not to say that this is sex with an absence of feelings. Quite the opposite, though she doesn’t want to think about that right now. It’s just a statement, an action word. He’s fucking her. Nick is fucking Jess.

And she’s _fucking_ loving it.

She grins at herself in the mirror, and he catches her eye and smirks back. She lets out a breathless laugh and drops her head, placing her hand over his on her hip. He loosens his grip enough to tangle his fingers with hers. With his other hand he pushes the hair off the back of her neck, presses a kiss to the damp skin.

With her head hanging down, her field of vision restricted by her loose tendrils of hair, Jess focuses for a moment on their feet. Nick’s are planted just outside hers, pointing away from her, though that probably doesn’t matter at this point. They look shockingly large beside her small toes, painted fire-engine red.  

Jess has an odd moment of realisation that she’s desperately thirsty, her throat dry and scratchy, when only moments ago she was fine. It’s then that she starts to become aware of the sounds she’s making, the breathy gasps and _oh_ sand _yes_ es that are escaping her lips with every push of Nick’s hips. She widens her eyes at mirror-Jess, and wonders if Nick would mind or even notice if she turned on the tap and had a quick drink mid-thrust.

The thought makes her giggle, and then Nick stills, as deep inside her as he could possibly be. Her giggle turns to a moan.

Nick’s hand comes up to hover over her lips. She presses a kiss against his fingers, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

 “Shhh...” She sees him frowning over her shoulder; worried frowning, not sexy frowning. She’s instantly nervous.

“What?”

“I thought I heard...”

Then, over the sound of their ragged breathing, muffled by the bathroom door, Jess hears it too.

“NICK. HEY NICK, YOU HOME MAN?”

Nick’s gaze locks on to hers and they stare at each other, wild-eyed.

_”Winston.”_


	4. Chapter 4

_"Winston.”_

Nick immediately backs away from her and looks around frantically. “Well, the door’s closed-“

“But it doesn’t lock!” Jess interrupts him. “Oh no, oh no... we have to-“

She starts trying to gather her clothes, but they’re flung everywhere. She’s only managed to grab her bra when Nick takes her arm.

“There’s no time. Here,” he whispers, pulling her into the shower and closing the curtain.

Seconds later, they hear the bathroom door swing open.

“Nick, you in here?”

Nick opens and closes his mouth a few times, then looks resigned to what’s about to happen. “Yeah, man. I’m just... having a shower.”

He looks at Jess apologetically, reaches around her, and turns the faucets on.

She clamps her eyes shut against the sudden spray of too-cold water, barely stopping herself from crying out in indignation. Nick’s leaning in close and wiping the water off her face with fumbling fingers, whispering, “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”

 She shakes her head, because she knows this is a necessary part of the illusion. Winston would probably notice if Nick was having a water-free shower, and the last thing she needs right now is the shower curtain being ripped away in suspicion.

“Right, right,” Winston continues on the other side of the curtain, oblivious. “Man, you will not believe the day I’ve...” his voice trails off. “What the hell happened in here?”

With a sickening jolt Jess remembers the state of the bathroom – the bottles knocked into the sink, Schmidt’s personal effects upended, their clothes scattered all over the floor.

The jig is one hundred percent up.

“Ahhhh....” Nick starts, his eyes wide and panicked. “I was looking for something? And I was, _am,_ like craaaazy drunk. I’m just trying to sober up in here. Sorry ‘bout the mess.”

“No worries man. What, was the new boss trying to get you wasted so she could take advantage of you or something?” Winston chuckles, and Nick cringes. Jess looks unimpressed.

The water is soaking her hair, running down her face in rivulets despite Nick’s best efforts. She remembers, then, how thirsty she is. She opens her mouth, collects a little of the water on her tongue and swallows it greedily. Nick watches her, hypnotised.

“I think you’re starting to rub off on Jess,” Winston says, and Jess and Nick both jerk their heads in the direction of his voice. “Yeah, she’s left her stuff all over the floor too. _Girl_ stuff.” Jess really hopes her underwear isn’t too visible.

It’s then that she realises she’s still clutching her bra, and it’s getting more waterlogged by the second. If Winston was going to be so oblivious she wishes she’d just left it on the bathroom floor. She starts to put it back on, and Nick shakes his head furiously.

“Where else am I meant to put it!” she whispers, confident the spray of the shower will prevent Winston from hearing her. “I’m not dropping it on the floor, it’ll probably grow fungus.”

Nick twists the bra out of her hands and drapes it over the hot water tap. She rolls her eyes and shrugs, _fine._ Nick looks pleased, and lifts his hands to rest on her upper boob region. Jess raises her eyebrows and makes a mental note to ask him about that later.

“Where is she, anyway?” Winston asks.

“Uhh... who?” Nick replies, pleasantly distracted.

“Jess, who do you think?”

“Oh, I, um... I think she’s with Cece.”

“Huh. I just saw Cece half an hour ago, and Jess wasn’t with her. Which reminds me, I have got to fill you in - you know how Schmidt was obsessed with getting a lion fish, right?”

Nick drops his head to Jess’s shoulder in defeat as Winston launches into what seems by all accounts to be a very long story. He lets one hand trail down her side, rubbing his thumb over her hipbone slowly, maddeningly. At her sharp intake of breath he lifts his head, and holding eye contact, slips his hand between her legs.

She bites her lip as he starts to tease her, sliding his fingers back and forth across her slippery skin. He pushes two fingers into her, and her eyes flutter shut. The water’s warm now, spraying on her shoulders and running down her thighs, and it’s easier than it should be to tune out Winston’s voice.

Nick’s thumb finds a rhythm on her clit as his fingers stroke inside of her, and she feels it building, building. She grips his bicep with one hand and tries to gain traction on the tiled wall with the other, afraid that at any moment she’s going to collapse. Nick’s hand speeds up, and she makes a noise, a high-pitched _unhh_ that sounds dangerously loud in the echoing confines of the shower. Not even Winston is going to buy that sound coming from Nick. But Winston’s still talking, and Nick’s hand’s still moving, and his other hand is cupping her jaw, his thumb pressing her lips shut.

He shakes his head at her and she nods, hopes her eyes convey her promise to stay quiet so long as he doesn’t stop.

Then he twists his hand, and her stomach drops, and she’s coming around his fingers; she’s biting her lip so hard she can taste blood on her tongue. Nick’s stroking her softly as she shakes. He moves his thumb from her mouth, dropping a kiss there, and she kisses him back hungrily.

He’s still hard against her stomach, and she aches to have him back inside her. Winston’s still talking, five feet away in the real world, and she catches the words _jellyfish_ and _urine_ and just really don’t want to know. 

Barely breaking their kiss, she takes a hold of Nick and positions him between her legs. Whispers against his lips, “Get rid of Winston.”

Her powers of persuasion are apparently very great indeed, because a second later he’s shouting, “GET OUT, GET OUT, WINSTON GET OUT.”

Jess cocks her head at him. As tactics go, it’s not a subtle one. 

“What the hell, Nick?” Winston yells. “I’m trying to share my day with you here. Do you not care that your best friend’s in the hospital?”

Nick sighs. He looks concerned despite himself, and Jess loves that about him. “Look, is Schmidt okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine; they’re just watching him overnight.”

“Great. Well can we talk about the rest later? I’m just... I’m trying to enjoy some alone time in here.” Nick cringes, but a second later-

“Gross, man. Do us all a favour and clean up after yourself, okay? Ugh. I’ll catch you later.”

At the sound of the door closing, Nick peeks out from behind the curtain and gives Jess a cheerful thumbs up to confirm that Winston’s gone. She’s staring up at him with a healthy balance of amusement and disgust.

“Eww, Nick! You do that in here? This is where we clean ourselves!”

“Oh, but this is okay?” he asks as he presses her back against the wall. In one smooth push he’s inside her again.

Her head tips back against the tiles and she moans, relishing the fact that she doesn’t have to be silent anymore. She’s still sensitive from her orgasm, so everything just feels so much _more_. Nick hitches one of her legs around his hip and fucks her hard, picking up where they left off before they were interrupted. Wobbling on one shaky leg, Jess loops her arms around Nick’s neck and just holds on. The expression on his face is one of intense concentration, and she can’t help but think that he should apply this much focus to other areas of his life. Can’t help but be shamefully glad he’s only applying it to her.

She presses kisses along his stubbled jaw before dropping her head to his shoulder. He’s moving faster, his muscles are tensing under her hands, she can tell he’s getting close. She encourages him along, chanting his name against his skin, then cries out when he hitches her leg up higher and hits her deeper.

“Winston’s still in the apartment, you know,” he says. She kisses the smile off his face, whispers, “ _Nick_ ,” one more time. Then he’s shuddering against her, groaning her name, and it sounds so sweet spilling off his lips while he’s pulsing inside her.

Then, finally, there’s the moment of stillness she was waiting for. She trails her fingers down his back and waits for his breathing to return to something resembling normalcy. Waits for him to look at her.

Then he’s pulling back, and she holds her breath. His eyes meet hers, and a smile splits his face. He’s grinning at her disbelievingly, like they’ve done something naughty _(which they have)_ , like they have a secret _(which they do)_.

She laughs, and it sounds like sex and exhaustion and kaleidoscopic joy.

Nick eases out of her and quickly cleans himself up. Then, as if he’s done it a thousand times before, as if it’s what they came in here to do, he starts washing her hair. It’s kind of weird; her hair tie snags when he tries to pull it out, and he gets more and more frustrated until she has to take over. He gets shampoo in her eyes, then tries to kiss the stinging better and winds up complaining about the taste of her shampoo. He tries to turn off the water, and appears bewildered when she gently tells him they’re not finished yet and reaches for the conditioner.

It’s definitely weird. But it’s nice.

Afterwards, when they’re clean and wrapped in towels (Nick uses Schmidt’s, like it’s not even a question), they pause. They’re hovering near the door, facing each other, as though they’re both afraid of what will happen when they leave the bathroom. 

Nick looks down at her, and clears his throat. “So I’ll go first and give you the all clear.”

“Yep. Good plan, captain.”

“Captain,” he says with a smile. “I like that. We’re revisiting that later.”

She smiles back. _Later._

Nick puts his hand on the door handle, then stops.

“Hey, Jess.”

“Yeah?”

“I like you.” He’s still smiling, but his eyes are serious.

Her heart does a lively two-step. She raises herself on her tip-toes and kisses him, fast and sweet.

“I like you too. Now go make sure my honour is intact.”

He grins, nods, and in a second is gone. Jess gives him a minute to scope the place for signs of Winston. In the meantime, she leans back against the door and closes her eyes.

A slideshow of images flashes through her mind – Nick looking guilty in the bar, Nick shouting at her in the hallway. Nick pulling off her shirt, Nick pushing into her for the first time. Nick coming.

She can’t believe that just happened. She is going to need a lot of alone time and Cece time and baked goods to process all the individual moments that made up the last- what, hour?

All that in only an hour.

A laugh escapes her, and she presses her hand over her mouth. She can’t stop shaking her head in disbelief.

She is really, _really_ happy that just happened. 


	5. Epilogue

Jess was drunk.

She was definitely drunk this time.

Cece had gone home, and their wine glasses were empty, and the lights in the bar had started to twinkle and blur. Jess rested her slightly fuzzy head on her hand and beamed at her boyfriend as he cleaned glasses with his beautiful, talented hands.

Her boyfriend. _Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend._ She rolled the word around on her tongue, careful not to say it out loud, then laughed delightedly.

Nick put down the glass he was holding and grinned at her across the bar.

“How ya doing there, Jess? Want some water?”

“Mmmm, water. You know how much I like water, Nick,” she said in her drunk sexy voice, then winked at him for good measure.

“Okay,” he laughed, setting a glass down in front of her. “Drink this, then let’s get you home.”

“Home,” she said, drawing out the word, her mind clouded with visions of Nick in her room, in her bed. Maybe if she asked nicely he’d gargle some beer for her before they left the bar.

As Nick started to pack up, Jess thought about that first time, and she thought about all the times since then. There’d been a lot of them; the night on the roof was particularly memorable, and as an added bonus they may have scared off the BirdCat permanently. She was getting twirlier by the second, and when Nick came around the bar to stack chairs, she caught him by his belt loops and pulled him in for a kiss.

Ignoring the noises of repulsion coming from her left, Jess detached herself from Nick’s face and whispered, “Let’s go.”

Nick pushed her hair out of her eyes and smiled at her fondly. “Yeah, okay. Big Bob can finish closing. Alright, Big Bob?”

At Big Bob’s grunt of acquiescence, Nick helped Jess off her bar stool, and she swayed gently into his side.

“You two are revolting,” slurred Schmidt. “Please stop rubbing your happiness and, dare I say, your disgusting horniness in the face of sad and single folk.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Schmidt,” Jess slurred right back. “I guess I just need a... cold shower.” She collapsed into giggles against Nick’s shoulder, and he hid his smile against her hair as he steered her out the door.

Winston just shrugged and slurped the melted remains of his fruity drink. He still didn’t know why that was funny. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's that! I hope you liked it. Please let me know what you thought :)


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